In Our Children's Eyes
by Kiki102
Summary: It's funny how children view their parents. Occasionally a few home truths are exposed. As the saying goes, from the mouth of babes...
1. Like Him, Like Her

**This is inspired by an NCIS fic called "Through the Eyes of Our Children" by Sophie Ranier. If you like NCIS and haven't read it, I advise you to check it out, it's very good!**

**This is in the same universe as the oneshots I have/will be posting for M*A*S*H. I'd love to hear what you think.**

**Enjoy!**

**Christina x**

**XOXOXOX**

**Like Him, Like Her**

_Susan 'Susie' Pierce, 14_

_Eldest child of Hawkeye Pierce and Margaret Houlihan_

Everyone says I'm just like my dad. Yeah, I look like him, a blind man could see that. Same hair colour (before his went grey), same height, same nose. And our grins. Man, I bet if you took a picture of just our grins, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. They're more alike than my twin brothers.

And I guess we are pretty similar when it comes to our personalities too. We both love jokes. When I was little dad would sit for hours telling me jokes. They were all pretty terrible. We have a thing for terrible jokes. I'm pretty easy going but have a hell of a temper. But I'm neat, really neat, and dad's so... not. Mom's always telling him that they don't live in a pigsty and it wouldn't kill him to tidy up once in a while and this isn't the swamp so he can't leave everything lying everywhere.

Mom especially is always saying that I'm like him. "You're just like your father." That's her exact words. I kid you not. Sometimes she says them laughing or fondly, usually though it's when I've annoyed her. Which I kinda do a lot. Not on purpose, it just seems to be a natural talent. I know she loves me though.

But you see, the thing is, dad doesn't think I'm like him at all.

Dad's always saying "You're just like your mother" or "You're too like your mother". And I'm not. Not that there's anything wrong with mom, there's not, I love her. But I'm not like her. I'm not really like dad either. I'm my own person. Well, I think I am anyway.

But if she says I'm just like him and he says I'm just like her, what does that say about them?


	2. Complicated

**Complicated**

_Kathy McIntyre, 22_

When I was little, my family was simple, normal. Mom and dad, me and Becky. End of. And it was perfect, or it seemed perfect to an eleven year old. Then dad went to Korea, which was bad enough. It turned out his coming back was worse.

I was twelve, Becky was ten. We were so happy to see him again after nearly a year. And mom was too, to begin with. But she'd always had her suspicions, unbeknown to us. Before I go any further let's get one thing clear; mom and dad had to get married. She was pregnant with me, so they got married and that was that. But she knew what he was like. She loved him though, and he loved me and Becky, and her too, to an extent. But she knew, when he came home, he couldn't look her in the eye. Not always, just sometimes. A few years ago, when she thought I was old enough, she told me that the saying about loving someone so much that it hurts is true. She loved him so much, but all that love was doing was hurting us all. She knew she had to let him go. So she did. She told him she wanted a divorce, which took a hell of a lot of guts. Her parents went mad. But she stuck to her guns. And dad went. Moved out. He came to visit us all the time, but mom always left us, just the three of us. I guess she was worried her resolve would break if she was around him too much.

To begin with dad was a mess. I may have been only twelve, but I wasn't stupid. I could smell the alcohol, I could see the obvious. It wasn't until the war in Korea ended that he was able to clean himself up. It's like he felt guilty over leaving them. He sobered up and started sorting out his career and his life. He started dating. Not relationships, flings. But it was a start. Three years after dad came home, mom met Stuart. He was a nice guy and treated her right. Widowed with three kids, Amy, Lucy and Mason. They got married and dad even came to the wedding. He and mom put the past behind them and became friends.

Then, finally, three years ago, dad met Emily. She's funny and smart and is so good for him. Neither of them were big on commitment when they met, they'd both been burned in the past, but finally she made an honest man out of dad. A proper one this time! Dad will never cheat on her, he loves her so much. Tom, our half brother, was born eight months after they got married, and Em's pregnant with their second child.

These days our family's far from simple. There's mom and Stuart, and dad and Emily. I'm the eldest, then Amy, Becky, Lucy, Mason and Tom. We have step brother and sisters, a half brother and will soon have another half sibling. There's step fathers and step mothers and step grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins... It's not simple, it's not normal, it's complicated and crazy and sometimes confusing, but it sure is fun.


	3. The Making of a Man

**The Making of a Man**

_Andrew Blake, 16_

_Eldest child of Henry and Lorraine Blake_

When dad went to Korea, he told me that I was the man of the house now, and that I had to take care of mom and my sister. And I thought I was so big and smart and clever. Cause I was the man of the house. I was in charge. Or at least, that was how I played it to my friends. As far as they knew, mom and Molly would do whatever I told them to. The reality was a bit different.

I can still remember when we heard that dad was coming home. Nate was still a baby. Dad had never met Nate. And I can still see mom's face, clear as day, when she told me that dad wasn't coming home ever, that he'd died on his way home. It seemed so unfair. He was finally coming back to us and they killed him. I didn't even know who 'they' were. Up until then, I hadn't cared.

Now, I had to be the man of the house for real. No one thought I could do it. I know now I was a selfish, immature little brat, but I thought I was all grown up. So why was I crying like a baby because my dad was dead? Men didn't cry. Maybe I wasn't as much of a man as I thought I was. But I promised dad that I would look after my family. I would make sure no one ever hurt them again. It seems so childish now, but I swore it. And I've done my best to keep that promise.

I worked hard at school, sorted out my grades. I worked hard at football practice, made the team. I played hard in games, to make him proud. But it all seem so stupid. Why would he care about grades and football? Then one day it dawned on me. Because he was my dad.

Last week, one of dad's friends from Korea cam to visit. His real name's Ben, but he told us all to call him Hawkeye. He spoke with mom mostly, but on his last day he asked me if I wanted to go for a walk. I got the feeling it wasn't a suggestion. We walked for ages saying nothing, then he turned to me suddenly and said, "Your dad would be so proud of you Andrew. You've done a good job taking care of your mom and Molly and Nate." That was it. I got the feeling it was a bit out of character for him. But I got the message. And for the first time, I know exactly what it is to be the man of the house. After years of pretending, it's real.


End file.
